


As It Was in the Beginning

by maydei



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Archangels, Canon Compliant, Demon Blood Addiction, Heaven, M/M, POV Lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:48:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maydei/pseuds/maydei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer was brilliant, once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As It Was in the Beginning

Demons are the very opposite of everything that angels are. Therefore, it stood to reason that an angel coming into contact with anything _demon_ might've had some unforeseen consequences.

Lucifer had once been the brightest, most brilliant angel in all of Heaven. He was powerful, he was beautiful, he was generous, he was wise—and he was kind. Once, he had led the choirs of Heaven. He had taught the youngest seraphs how to harmonize their True Voices into a thing of beauty as a tribute to God, their Father. Where Michael led the armies and Raphael taught the children to use their Grace for healing and miracles, Lucifer had looked after the little ones when they got upset. He did not tell them that angels had no room for sorrow, like Michael and Raphael did—instead, he taught them that sorrow was to be expected and was perfectly acceptable as long as they didn't let it rule them. Their orders must come first, always—but that didn't mean that they couldn't feel sadness for what they might have to do.

Lucifer was loved.

He was loved by the youngest seraphs. He was loved by the warriors that long should have learned that blind adoration to anyone but God was nearly blasphemous. He was loved desperately by Gabriel, God's newest (and, if what he said was true, his _final_ ) archangel, who was still in the phase of being young and curious and bursting with laughter that had not yet been purged from him. He was loved fondly by Raphael, who thought him too soft, but had a soft spot for him. And none loved Lucifer more fiercely than Michael, who had loved and raised Lucifer himself, and who looked upon his younger brother with hopeless devotion (the child that he himself had raised and loved more dearly than any that had come before or would ever come after).

He was loved by God, who saw his beauty and his mercy and his love and thought him good. God modeled humans in His own image, that much was true—but mostly, He modeled them after Lucifer.

Later, He would realize his mistake.

Lucifer spoke out against the humans, because he did not know why God created them. He spoke out against them, because when he looked down to see them walk the Earth, he only saw creatures that thought themselves above God. He saw Eve steal the apple of her own will, and he descended to seek a proper punishment for her—he reached inside and squeezed her soul until it fractured, and thus the first demon was born.

If Lucifer hadn't been cast into Hell by a furious and brokenhearted Michael, he might have seen the First Prophesy and known it for what it was—when fierce Cain slew loving Abel, the future was set into stone.

Now, that future would come to pass.

Lucifer hated demons—they represented his failure and his torture, and if there was one thing that Lucifer ever regretted, it was creating them (even if it was entirely by accident). He loathed their animalistic ways.

He hated that he was reliant on their blood to keep Nick from bursting.

When Lucifer first emerged from Hell, he was furious, but he was hopeful. _Sam,_ he'd thought, and despite his exhaustion and frustration, he'd felt love. Even when he thought of Michael, he felt compassion and adoration.

Lucifer had always loved too much.

But now, after all this, the demon blood had changed him. It had tainted his Grace, twisted him beyond what Hell had already done. He became angry, so angry, and had killed without a thought. Where he had once been controlled and graceful in his killing, he became wild, like the demons (never had it become more clear to him than when he slaughtered the Pagans; he hadn't even realized that he'd killed Gabriel until he was kneeling on the floor and holding the broken vessel of his brother in his arms).

And still, he loved Sam.

The demon blood fed everything that made Lucifer flawed, everything that kept him from God. It broke open the pieces of his Grace that were scarred, and he bled his brutalized Grace into Nick's body. It was killing his temporary vessel, and his only hope was Sam.

Sam was always his only hope.

Lucifer wanted him. Needed him. But his pride was enough that he didn't pine. Still, it was no wonder that Sam was terrified as he was, considering that Lucifer could not even control his fury so that he might be able to reassure Sam that he was worth it. That he would always take care of him. That what he did to the rest would never and _could_ never apply to him.

Even if he was no longer worthy of being called an archangel.

And still, Sam said _no._

And still, he loved Sam.

In the end, demon blood purged everything of _Lucifer_ from his Grace, but there was one thing it could never truly destroy—his heart.

 

 

 

 


End file.
